Can I Trust These Hands to Fight?
by Droiture LeReve
Summary: Chekov, feeling guilty about the destruction of Vulcan and the loss of Spock's mother Amanda, turns to drinking heavily to numb his pain. No one seems to notice him until it's nearly too late. One-shot, hints of K/S and Chekov/Sulu


Note: I needed to do this to break up the monotony of A Dreamer's Final Wish (my latest fanfic, a TMNT fanfic). This little ficlet has been in my head for a couple weeks now, and I figured I should get it down finally and stop being such a lazy bizznatch. If I spent half the effort on my school work as I did on sleeping and playing video games, I'd be a freaking straight-A student, I swear it...

Anyway, I thought this up after seeing a couple other fics online about this general topic and I figured I'd hop the bandwagon, though mine is a bit unique.

My spellchecker did not think this was a good idea. Nor did my grammar checker enjoy Chekov talking. Ever.

I don't own Star Trek, that great honor belongs to the awesome and amazing Gene Roddenberry alone, with some help by J.J. Abrams and his Star Trek 2009. Though Leonard Nimoy will always be epic. Also, Zachary Quinto's Spock is HOT! Mm-mm! :-9

Anton Yelchin is the most adorable little thing in the world, I just wanna hug him forever. Seriously, a guy that fluffy just shouldn't exist; it's too damn cute.

**Can I Trust These Hands to Fight?**

Pavel Andreievich Chekov sat against his bed, on the floor, staring into the pillow he had his face shoved into. Various Russian curse words were flying out of his mouth rapidly and loudly, muffled somewhat by the pillow. He leaned back and cried into the same pillow, wishing there were some way to go back, to change things, to make it so that poor woman didn't fall off into the edge of forever.

And Mister Spock... Mister Spock...

Though Spock had tried so hard to control himself around Chekov, to keep his emotions in check, Chekov was perceptive enough to notice a twinge of pain in his deep brown eyes whenever they glanced in the blonde Russian's direction. It was a split-second before his eyes returned to normal, and if it hadn't happened repeatedly over the course of the past week since the incident, Chekov would have sworn it was just his imagination.

But it happened repeatedly, every single time Chekov caught Spock's eye through the corner of his, that mixed torrent of half-formed, half-suppressed emotion. Pain, anger, anguish, sorrow, grief...

And every single one cut another little piece out of Chekov's tattered soul.

_Tomorrow. _The Russian thought. _After tomorrow, I vill have nuzzing left to looze. _

Chekov's will and soul were being worn down over the days, bit by bit until he figured he either had to do something about it or die trying.

_So tomorrow, I go. _

So many "tomorrow"s, so many. Every night he was promising himself that the next day would be his last of grieving like this.

Yet another week of half-hearted lies.

A week later, the _Enterprise_ was still floating dead in space, warp cores having been ejected and dilithium crystals nearly destroyed. Scotty was working on the problem as best he could but Starfleet, even at it's fastest warp, still wasn't going to get out to the _Enterprise_ to help for another while or so. And because the Enterprise wasn't actually... going anywhere at the moment, Chekov, being the navigator, didn't have any real work to do. What use is a navigator on a ship that isn't going anywhere? This gave him plenty of time to sit around his bedroom, drinking bottle after bottle of Russian vodka and staring out of the window into dark, empty space, littered with little pinprick stars to break up the velvet monotony.

Occasionally McCoy or Sulu would come in to check that the teenaged officer was still breathing, but other than that, Chekov denied visitors (except of course for Sulu, his roommate, and McCoy, who had the access codes to his room and "Dammit, if you don't let me in to check on you, you're getting a hypo in the neck and you're coming with me anyway!").

Sulu, being the pilot, didn't have any real work to do either, but instead of sitting around doing nothing, he spent his time in the botany labs playing with flowers.

Chekov couldn't understand why. Then again, Chekov was allergic to pollen.

Finally, after even Kirk got fed up with Chekov's lack of appearance on the Bridge, he grabbed McCoy's access codes and came in all by himself, only to find Chekov splayed out on the small couch, nursing a bottle of vodka and staring at the wall.

"Chekov, what's going on? You haven't shown up on the Bridge since the _Narada_ incident. What are you- is that _alcohol?" _

"In Russia, ve are raised on wodka. Zere ees no need to yell, Kepten." Chekov said quietly, sitting up and stashing the vodka under the couch.

"Listen, what's going on, Chekov? You can talk to me. I'm the Captain. I can help you." Kirk sat down next to Chekov on the couch once the young Russian had sat up to make room for him. Chekov shook his head.

"Kepten, do not concern yourzelf with me, eet does not matter. I vill return to the Bridge if you command, Kepten."

"No, I won't make it an order, Chekov. I wouldn't force you to come out if you don't want to. But what I will order is that you at least let someone in once in a while. Sulu's getting worried, McCoy's getting worried, Hell even Spock has been wondering where you've wandered off to."

Chekov visibly shuddered when Spock was mentioned. Realization dawned on Kirk's face.

"I see. This is what this is about, isn't it? You think Spock is angry with you about... well, you know."

"How can he not be, Kepten? I let his muzzer fall off a cliff! I could hawe safed her, I could hawe-"

"Shh. Chekov, come on, calm down. Chekov, I share a _room _with Commander Spock. I know what he feels, and it isn't anger. Yes, he's hurt that his mother is gone. Anyone who just lost their mother would be grieving. But he's not mad at you. He knows it wasn't your fault. He's looked through the situation logically, and he knows there was nothing you could have done."

"I vent through ze simulations a zhousand times! I knew how to sawe her, but I couldn't! I froze! I-"

"Ensign Chekov, please, stop yelling. It'll be alright. Now, I want you to work up a little bit of nerve, however you think you can, and go talk to Commander Spock yourself. Maybe through his mouth will the words finally hit your little teenager brain, ok? And come on, quit drinking for a while. You're seventeen, you're underage and technically I'm supposed to report you for this, but I can see you're in pain so I won't. Next time, however, I don't care what happens, if I catch you hiding alcohol in your room, you're being written up, got it, Ensign?" Kirk said, standing up with his hands on his hips.

"Yes, Kepten." Chekov got up.

"Come on, I'll bring you to Spock. He's probably meditating in our quarters right now... Or doing something along those lines, I don't even know what he's doing half the time. If it's not psycho logic-babble, it's complete silence with him." Kirk said, his smile becoming infectious, and Chekov found himself giggling a little bit as he followed behind his Captain, who continued to crack jokes about pointed ears and green blood.

As they passed by Sulu, the Asian man had to do a double-take. What? Pavel was out of his room? He was actually showing himself? _What?_ How did the Captain manage to get Chekov out of his quarters? Scratch that, how did he get him _smiling_? Sulu decided that the day was weird enough without worrying about things like this. The botany labs needed him.

Kirk stopped at his door. "He's in there, Pavel. Now look, I told you he's not mad. Just go talk to him." Kirk opened the door silently. Spock was none the wiser, sitting at his desk and tapping out lines of code on his PADD, no doubt Engineering codes for Scotty or equations for the Science division. He was deep in thought, not paying any attention to what was going on behind him.

Suddenly Chekov was very nervous. The Captain was sneaky! Making Chekov laugh, putting him at ease to get him here...

And now that he was here, there was no going back. Spock was in front of him, Kirk behind him. He felt trapped. He began to shake and sweat.

Suddenly his vision began to swim and he collapsed suddenly, legs twisting out from beneath him as he fell.

"SHIT!" Kirk yelled in surprise, alerting Spock to what was going on behind him. Spock flipped around and quickly surveyed the scene with his deep brown critical eyes.

"Captain, can I assume your shouted expletive is a consequence of Ensign Chekov's falling unconscious on the floor?" He asked coolly, lifting Chekov easily to help bring him into Sickbay.

"Yeah, he passed out. I found him half-drunk in his quarters, nursing a bottle of vodka and crying. He feels guilty over what happened on Vulcan, Spock. He's been feeling guilty for weeks."

"It is illogical for him to feel guilt over an event he could not control." Spock said.

"I know, but he's a kid. Kids tend to blame themselves when things like this happen. I tried to get him to talk to you directly so you could tell him it wasn't his fault but I guess the liquid courage ran out."

As they got Chekov into Sickbay, McCoy grumbled, "Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor not a babysitter. What happened to the kid?"

"Just passed out, Bones, but I caught him with a half-empty bottle of vodka earlier so I brought him in to make sure he didn't have alcohol poisoning or something."

"Yeah, good idea, Jim. I'll run a couple tests. You write him up for the booze?"

"Nah, it didn't seem right. He's the best navigator in the 'Fleet and I figure I'd let him unwind every once in a while. The kid's from way into Russia, he's probably been drinking since he was six. I figure if I write him up, I might lose my best navigator. As long as he doesn't show up for duty drunk or hungover, I'm fine with it. I'll turn the other cheek. If Starfleet gets up in my case about it, I'll pretend it's Sulu's alcohol; he's legal and as far as I know, they share quarters."

"As sneaky and convoluted as ever, Jim." McCoy rolled his eyes. "Starfleet's got a lot to deal with in you."

"Yep!" Jim agreed, cocky grin plastered in place. "As Captain of the resident Starship Awesomesauce, it's my duty to make Starfleet both proud and miserable to have me."

"Captain, I am confused. Do we not serve on the U.S.S _Enterprise? _What is 'Awesomesauce'?"

Jim laughed. "Nothing, Spock, don't worry about it. Bones got it, right?"

"Yeah, I did, and I wish I didn't." McCoy said, rolling his eyes. He finished with the final test on Chekov. "Well, the kid's blood alcohol level is about four times the legal limit but it looks like he narrowly avoided alcohol poisoning. I can say one thing... the kid knows how to hold his liquor. The only major side effect is going to be one whopper of a hangover when he wakes up. He should stay here tonight and tomorrow to clear up."

"How was he not suffering before?" Kirk asked.

"He probably was, he most likely just drank more to drown out the headache." McCoy answered dryly.

"Drinking to numb a hangover is like breaking your own windows with a brick to avoid kids breaking them with baseballs. It's generally a stupid idea." Jim exclaimed. Then he calmed down, looking from Pavel to Spock to Pavel to Spock, back and forth. "Alright... the poor kid. Spock, do you think you could at least write him a note or something? Tell him it wasn't his fault about what happened on Vulcan. Tell him he can't keep suffering in silence like this, or it's going to kill him. And for the love of Christ, Spock, please try to do it in plain Federation Standard English, not that psycho logic-babble you spout out all the time...OK?" He asked desperately. "I can't have my top navigator suffering like this."

"I will try to accommodate to your orders, Captain." Spock answered. His voice was low, and he couldn't tear his eyes off the young Ensign who had been taking these past few weeks so badly.

"Thanks, Spock, I knew I could count on you." Jim clapped a hand on Spock's shoulder briefly before walking away, back to Bridge duty.

"He's really been like this since the _Narada_ incident?" McCoy asked in disbelief.

"From what I understand Doctor, that seems to be the case."

"I didn't realize. I knew he was depressed and I checked to make sure he was still breathing every once in a while but I never suspected he was drunk the whole time. Kid knows how to _hide _his liquor too, I guess."

"I will stay with Mr. Chekov and monitor his progress, if you don't mind, Doctor. It is more logical that I should be the one to watch him, as it seems it is partly my fault he is in this condition."

"Ah, feelin' guilty, are ya? Alright, you green-blooded hobgoblin, stay with the kid if you want. I'll be over here."

Two hours later, Chekov woke up, his eyelids fluttering open, then immediately screwing themselves shut as the light aggravated his headache and made him flip over, crushing the pillow to his head to block out the light and sounds of Sickbay. He almost started crying as his head began throbbing. Worse, he felt sick to his stomach and tried desperately to hold back his urge to vomit.

"You awake, kid? Come here, I'll give you a hypo for the pain and nausea."

Screwing his eyes shut, Chekov let McCoy stick a hypo in his neck. "How did I get here?" He asked in a high, childish voice.

"You fainted when the Captain brought you to my location." Spock said simply, scrolling down a line of text on a datapad in his hands.

"I-I...oh." Chekov said, his voice dropping off. Spock looked up from the datapad he was reading.

"Ensign Chekov, there is no need to feel guilty or upset about what happened to my planet. There was nothing you could have done and things would have turned out exactly the same way had it not been you at the controls. In fact, if it were not for you the Captain and Lieutenant Sulu would have fallen to their deaths long before that. It is illogical to contain these feelings of grief when myself of Doctor McCoy would have been more than happy to speak with you. Why did you not come to one of us?"

Chekov fought back tears. "Eweryone eez already treating me like I am baby on starship. I thought, if zey knew that I waz feeling zis vay, zey vould laugh at me and call me baby again. I am youngest on _Enterprise _and I can tell zey see me as little child rather zan adult like eweryone else. So I tried to keep problems to myself, hoping zat I could get over zem by myself and return to vork vhen the Kepten needed me. Instead I find myself in Sickbay with hangower." Chekov explained, nearly in tears.

"Why do they treat you differently? You are an officer aboard the _Enterprise _as are they, and your age should not have to do anything with your position. It is illogical for them to treat you differently simply because you haven't lived as long."

"Logical Wulcan is logical." Chekov protested, "But humans do not think zat vay. Ve... ve are different. I know it eez logical to see me as officer of starship, but humans are not logical. Zey only see a teenager trying to be a grownup."

"Have you not talked to Lieutenant Sulu about this?"

"_Da, _Sulu eez only one who looks at me like I am an adult. But still, I cannot go to him! I am scared. Maybe I am just a little baby..." Chekov's eyes sunk down until they were staring at the biobed beneath him.

"PAVEL!" Suddenly Sulu shot through the doors, startling both Chekov and Spock, who actually dropped his datapad onto his foot. It was the first time Chekov had ever seen Spock jump that far into the air. "Pavel, the Captain just found me in the botany labs, what the hell happened? He said you'd passed out and that you were sick and in Medical. What happened?"

"Oh... I... Hikaru... I am fine, Hikaru. Go back to your vlowers. Vould not vant zem to die vhile you are avay, yes?" Chekov faked enthusiasm.

"Pavel, don't give me that bullshit. Were you drinking yourself stupid again? I thought we talked about this, Pav, you can't do that. You're going to end up dead."

"Hikaru, I am zorry, I am! I just..."

"I know. It's okay."

Meanwhile, Spock was wondering why it took Jim three hours to find Sulu aboard a starship that had personal communicators and comm links.

"Hikaru... ouch!" Sulu had given Pavel a sharp smack to the back of the head.

"Pav, I'm sorry for that, but sometimes I think it's the only way to get through your thick skull. I don't want to see you do this to yourself anymore, got it? If you die, then there's no reason for me to be here." Sulu dropped his tone and rubbed the spot on Chekov's head where he'd smacked him.

"Da, Hikaru, I am sorry. I vill not drink anymore."

"God, you scared the life out of me. Were you talking to the Commander?"

Spock looked up at his title being mentioned. "Ensign Chekov felt guilt about what happened on Vulcan. I told him simply that it was not his fault and he did the very best he could. A new Vulcan colony is going to be established as soon as we find a suitable planet with the proper climate and atmospheric conditions. If you'll excuse me, I believe the Captain has need of me on the Bridge." Spock got up and walked away.

"Wait, how could Spock know if the Captain needed him or not? I didn't hear his comm go off."

"I don't know, Hikaru... but I am sorry. It vasn't my fault, zey are right. I should go back to our quarters and sleep."

"I'll help you there, Pav. But please, promise me you won't do that again." Hikaru placed his lips on Pavel's forehead before pulling the young ensign to his feet. "You scared me. After I saw the Captain pulling you down the corridor, I went to the botany labs not really thinking about it, but I should have. I should have been more receptive of your emotions and I should have helped you. I'm sorry, Pav."

A yeoman poked his head in the door. "Just so you know, Starfleet just arrived with the replacement warp drives and dilithium crystals for the nacelles, so the Captain said he's going to need Ensign Chekov in Engineering and that I can find him here."

"Da, zat is me. I will talk to you later, da Hikaru?"

"Yeah... yeah." Hikaru wandered back to his quarters, a small twinge of a smile on his face. He'd show Pavel how much he cared, but after the nacelles were fixed.

Chekov could wait until then.


End file.
